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Previously…

“Stop it, Darla. Quit kicking yourself. Nobody could have seen this coming. It was a dream ….that’s all.

“But you should have seen her eyes, Alex.”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t real. But there’s real and then there’s real, you know? No one could have helped Mahmoud, but something tells me that someone with a higher grade of pay than even the Commish wants you….and ME….to look out for her, right?” Darla nodded reflexively.

“You gonna be okay? “

“It hurts, Alex.” Darla put her head down; tears fell on her blouse, turning dark blue to near black in droplet-shaped stains. At one time she might have shaken or paced a bit, but those ways seemed to be fading like so much colored paper in a window display.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Alex made a promise he wouldn’t have dared make to Beseema Abdel Salaam, but he was supremely confident, as some might say, that at least for his partner, no matter which form and substance it might take, that it was indeed going to be okay.

---

A few days later at Darla’s apartment…

Darla sat on the couch; her legs curled up under her with a dark maroon throw surrounding her. Youtube had just cycled through a Sarah Bettens fan channel. She clicked on replay and the songs began again….

When I tend to lose my mind
When I overlook all signs
When I just don't feel that right inside

Will you
Rescue me
Will you soften every blow?
And will you know when it will hit me?
Will you
Rescue me
It's all I need

The familiar cadence of a rap RAP RAP rap came at the door.

“It’s not locked. Come on in!” Darla shouted and a moment later the door opened, revealing a very tired Jo Bianchi.

“You up for company?” Her aunt held up a six pack of Blue Moon.

“I can come back later.” She smiled and shrugged her shoulders slightly.

“No….Please?” Darla patted the couch and Jo walked over, placing the six-pack on the coffee table. She walked into the kitchen and returned quickly with a bottle opener, holding it up.

“I can never tell who has twist off and who doesn’t, and I’ve decided I don’t want to take the chance of ripping the hell out of my thumb.” She laughed and popped the top off of two bottles of ale; handing one to Darla.

“How have you been, sweetie?” Darla shrugged and looked away slightly. Things were on the mend, so to speak, but she still needed the attention only Jo could give with understanding.

“It gets better,” Jo said, patting Darla on the arm.

“I know. It’s….”

“Something else….” Not a question. For Darla and even for Jo, it was always something else. The fatigue they both shared came from the predisposed Bianchi genes and the painful stress of combat. And the glaring loss they both shared as Louise Bianchi Farnetti rejected both her sister and her daughter. But it was another something that was on Darla’s mind.

“She’s still with you,” Jo said, patting her own heart. I know it hurts and you miss her.” Anyone else might have told Darla to let go of the only love she ever knew. That death was final and that she had to move on. That wasn’t Jo, however.

“You hear her voice and see her face and it hurts so much,” Jo said. Darla’s eyes were already filled with tears. She looked at Jo and back at the picture sitting on the entertainment center. Two soldiers; dusty and tired and still bright and in love. The photo was taken the morning Amani and Aldo died. Amani from an IED and Aldo from self-realization that brought Louise Farnetti the daughter she never knew she had.

“I’m sorry. You getting along?” Jo asked, rubbing Darla’s arm. Darla nodded and half-smiled even as the tears fell off her face.

“I worry about you, you know? And I’m always here to talk if you need to.”

“Why couldn’t you have been…?” Darla began and Jo shook her head.

“Your mother? No, honey. No.” She said it softly; not a rebuke so much as a plea for understanding. Darla shook her head back in argument.

“I mean it. You’ve been more of a mother to me in the past few years than…”

“No, Darla. I haven’t. I’m your mother’s sister.” She said it with confidence. Josephine; not Joseph or even Giuseppe Bianchi. She had gotten past feeling guilty about what Louise had termed ‘abandoning’ her family. Her youngest cousin Monica was like a niece to Jo and was just fine with having an aunt instead of an uncle; something she also imparted to her kids. Something which frustrated Louise to no end because she wanted company in her miserable, self-imposed solitude.

“She bore you. She raised you and your sister without any help.” Jo gasped as she thought of how hard it had been for them all at Connie's passing. A gasp echoed by Darla, but quickly replaced with a near-furious headshake.

“That’s bullshit, Jo…You helped even when…. You helped but she wouldn’t …. Oh fuck…” Darla shook her head once again. Her mother’s hatred of the two of them made no sense. And as much as it hurt each of them, both bore the same family tendency to care for others more than self. It hurt Darla more to see Jo rejected than to feel her own rejection, and Jo felt the same way.

“She …she didn’t want my help.”

“But I saw…. We couldn’t have made it without…. “

“It wasn’t….. I wanted to hold you and Connie so bad…. I wanted to shake Louise…your Mom can be just as stubborn….”

“As you, Jo? You have the patience of fucking Job.”

“It’s……I love my sister… your mother.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Sure you do…. You have faith… I have faith…. We both hold onto the hope that your mother will change. Not because we want to but because she needs to know she’s loved. She can’t believe it.”

“But…

“How? It takes two to tango? Was that what you were going to ask?” Jo smiled; blinking back her own tears.

“We keep trying. I stop by the apartment every day, hon…. I knock on the door. Some days silence. Other days ‘go away.’ One afternoon she forgot herself and said Jo, but she couldn’t let that go, so she added, ‘Go away, Joseph.” Her face practically beamed.

“How can you…. How do you do that… let her do that to you? You’re okay with that?”

“Listen, honey. There was a time when she’d never bother to say anything. I think something is changing in her.”

“I don’t know….” Darla put her head down.

“I know it hurts for her to reject you, but you’ve got to keep trying. For her sake as much as for yours. She’s the only mother you have.” Jo patted Darla’s hand.

“But you…you’re mmm my….”

“If God had seen to do things differently, I’d still only be your aunt. I love you more than my own life, Darla, but I can’t make things what they aren’t. And you can’t give up. You’ve got a lot of your mother in you, and that’s good. She is stubborn, yes, but she’s also very brave, even if she has made some bad choices.” Jo caught herself. Even in the midst of being hurt by Louise, Jo didn’t want that hurt to become Darla’s hurt; as similar as the two of them were in Louise’s eyes. If anything, she wanted to halve the pain; not increase it.

“You’ll be okay, no matter what, honey, but you might find things will be better still, if you reach to her, you know?” Darla nodded with only a bit of reluctance.

“I know you’re afraid of being hurt, but can you look at things between you and her and see them worse than they already are?”

“Why are you so fu…. Why are you so confident after how she’s treated you?”

“A friend of ours….your mom and mine…. Was being treated the same way by her own mother the way your mom treats you….” She didn’t need to compound things by adding herself even it that was so

“I asked her how she could deal with the constant rejection. She said ‘You see her as she is. I see her as she can become.’ I try to do that with your Mom, and I think you can as well. And I’m here when things go wrong and I look forward to being here when you tell me or I tell you how right things went with her.”

“Why…. “

“Again, why? I don’t know why, but I can say this. It’s not hate that makes your mother treat us the way she does. It’s really about her being too ignorant in the middle of loving us as much as she can. If she can see us as we are and not what someone tells her we should be or some faith or some belief pushes her to save us from ourselves? She loves you. She doesn’t know enough to love you as good as she can, since she doesn’t think she’s …. Sorry….I’m going on like an idiot.” Jo put her head down and began to cry.

“No you’re not. I understand.” Darla stammered.

“She just doesn’t know who she’s loving? I know. I saw it in her eyes when she sent me away. She wasn’t angry. She was sad. Not just for her, but for me, ‘cause she just doesn’t understand. I guess…”

Jo lifted her head and pulled her niece into a very tentative hug.

“I’m not your Mom, but I know I would be the happiest woman on earth if I was. Go talk to her. Make her understand she can be the happiest woman on earth.” Even as she spoke the words haltingly, they still rang true. Darla kissed Jo over and over on the cheek, weeping, but with more hope than she had ever had in her life….

When I hold my head up way too high
When I drive too fast in my sweet blue ride
When my shoe's untied
When I'm sad at night

Will you
Rescue me
Will you soften every blow?
And will you know when it will hit me?
Will you
Rescue me
It's all I need

---

At the precinct the following day…

“Hey, Partner….” Alex waved almost frantically at Darla when she walked into the break room. She hurried over and smiled.

“Easy does it, Bro. We’ve got the whole shift to talk,” she laughed. He grabbed her arm and squeezed It slightly.

“No… you gotta…. Oh shit.”

“What?”

“I just heard from the Captain. Mahmoud?”

“They got the guys? Tell me they got the guys.”

“No….not yet, but ….oh fuck…”

“What?” Darla closed her eyes; only for a moment, but long enough to see Bazeema’s smile. She shuddered; her arm shaking enough to get Alex to let go.

“No, D…. I know what you’re thinking. She’s okay…. “ He looked away.

“She’s …okay? What’s wrong?”

“DHS got a hit on Mahmoud’s fingerprints. He was on the no fly list….”

“Oh no…no… He…”

“No…not that. …. Sorry.” Alex paused. Even the casual relationship they had with old man left him and Darla still grieving for someone they hardly knew.

“He….Apparently he defected…. In 79…” Alec blew out a frustrated breath. Darla stared at him in puzzlement.

“He might have run a deli in Queens, but back in 1979 he was one of the leading nuke experts in Iran.” He shook his head and Darla’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Please … tell me he wasn’t….”

“No…that’s just it. He was being transported to a safe house somewhere when the van got hit. Two feds wounded and no Mahmoud.”

“No… God, no, Al….”

“Easy, D…. the Captain says the state department thought he just got iced. He was legit… But they thought he was dead. Jeez, Darla, I’m sorry.” He put his hand on her arm and rubbed it like a father might do when his daughter got teased at school.

“I know she means a lot to you, and that means he means a lot….me too. He was a nice guy. But Cap says the feds think things just caught up to him.”

“Not things, Alex. People. Those guys who tried to take him out the first time? Remember? They had Kevlar vests. It wasn’t a robbery. It was a hit…. “ She bit her lip. She didn’t have to close her eyes this time; Bazeema’s face appeared as if she was standing right there.

“That means if they were after him….they probably…. Oh God, no.” Darla’s face was a mask of horror at the thought.

“Cap says the feds are bringing her in….”

“Bringing her in?!!”

“For protection. She’s what…. Late twenties? Thirty tops? She wasn’t even born when her father came here. She may not know anything.”

“But the guys who killed him don’t know that. They might go after her thinking she knows something…” Darla began to thump her thigh with her left hand; a fist of frustration which was slowly turning to anger.

“Yeah. Well, they’ve sent someone over to the family home to bring her in…. it’s going to be alright.” Alec went to rub her arm once again, but Darla pulled away.

“No, Alex. It’s not going to be alright until we know she’s okay.”

“I know, but it’s out of our hands. We gotta roll, D. Okay?” He put his hand out once more and Darla grabbed it; squeezing it in welcome.

“I know….I know….”

---

That evening... At the home of Louise Farnetti…

Darla stood at the doorway to her mother’s place. She took a deep breath, spoke a quick prayer and knocked on the door. A moment later Louise held the door open and motioned without word for Darla to enter.

“Hi, Mom. I was in the neighborhood after my shift, and I ….”

“I made a pot of coffee, “ Louise sad as she shuffled silently into the kitchen without waiting for an answer. A moment later she placed two mugs of coffee on the coffee table as she sat down on the sofa.

“Dark….no sugar?” Louise asked. Darla had recently taken to drinking her coffee black, but just her mother remembering was more important than getting it right. She picked up the mug and took a sip, wondering what to say.

“Your sister is visiting next month. Paul can’t come… his job, you know. But Lindsey and Tracey are coming,” Louise said. It was if they had been talking all along. That the gulf between them not only had been spanned, but that it had never existed. Darla nodded. The wprd 'sister' scraped against her heart; as much for what it implied about herself as for what it said abou the fractured Farnetti family and who was missing. By choice like Gina or by the absence of the youngest Farnetti sister.

“Lindsey is in sixth grade…. She’s on the soccer team, you know. I’ve got a picture on the entertainment center,” her mother said, pointing off to her side. Darla looked over to see the clutter of photos.

“That’s nice, Mom.” The small talk was a beginning after nearly two years of estrangement, but it made no sense. Louise smiled weakly and coughed. The cough turned into a spasm and Darla found herself sitting next to Louise, patting her on the back. It was foreign, since they hadn’t embraced for years, and she felt almost out of place. The coughing subsided and Louise took a sip from the mug as if nothing had happened. She smile weakly.

“Tracey is taking ballet lessons.”

“That’s nice.” Darla nodded once again, at a loss to respond further.

“Paul got a promotion. You know how hard he works.” Darla knew her brother-in-law to be a good man who was devoted to Gina and the girls. She could only assume Paul worked hard, but she barely had spoken to the family when Gina joined in lockstep behind Louise to reject Darla. Things had warmed between her and Darla only recently with Jo's encouragement. Darla was about to speak when Louise turned away and looked out the front window; staring blankly.

“I want you to make sure your sister is okay.” She turned and faced Darla and sighed.

“I’m sorry. I missed your birthday…..” Darla spoke, trying to make sense of her mother’s sudden change. Louise turned away again; almost searching for words. When she turned back once more, her face was etched with pain, and not just from the coughing jag. Even still, she put her hand on Darla’s wrist and patted it.’’

“That’s okay. It’s okay.”

She shook her head, and for the only the second time in three years, Darla saw tears in her mother’s eyes as she continued to pat her wrist. She shrugged slightly and nodded; as if she had gained some inner strength. Darla leaned closer and nodded back, giving her mother a permission she didn’t need to seek. Darla had prayed long and hard over the past several days. Between her talk with her Aunt Jo and the news about Mahmoud, she was overwhelmed, and she hoped she was ready for whatever her mother had to say.

But nothing she had sought prepared her for what her mother said next. Louise smiled; as kind and welcoming as Darla could remember as her mother spoke softly.

“The doctor told me…maybe….six months…. “ She paused as Darla’s fears played out on the look of fear that crossed her face.

“Osteo….bone cancer…. “

“What? No,” Darla practically shouted.

“Your Aunt Jo always told me to stop smoking. I guess I didn’t stop soon enough. It went from my lungs to ….” She strained to look over her shoulder at her back.

“Aunt…Jo?”

“My…my sister….” She bit her lip. Even the shame she felt brought little color to her ashen face.

“It’s okay…..really,” Louise patted Darla on the shoulder.

‘I…I am so….so…. sorry,” she said at last as she fell into Darla’s arms; weeping. Darla held her mother; feeling closer than she had ever been in her life as she just said over and over,

“I know, Mom….I know….”

When I run too fast and I can't say no
When you need me here and I move too slow
When our kids are getting much too old

Will you
Rescue me
Will you soften every blow?
And will you know when it will hit me?
Will you
Rescue me
It's all I need

Next: Those Three Words

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Rescue Me
Words and Music by the performer
Sarah Bettens
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LS9m6ICKuA4